


Daze

by saltylemonade



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Blood, Child Abuse, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltylemonade/pseuds/saltylemonade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unprompted attack</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daze

His head slams into the corner of the kitchen table as he falls to the floor. The world is a daze for a moment. Spinning. But he's brought to when rough hands grab Scott by the shirt. His father is saying...screaming...something but he's hardly listening. That is until he sees the glint of a knife. His heart is pounding in his ears. Eyes widening, which his father grins at. Scott's arms are pinned to the floor by his father's knees while he sits on Scott's stomach. There is no way for him to escape. He's too weak to fight back. Small and thin from lack of nutrition.

Any other time, Scott would show no fear. This time thought he can't help it. Eyes full of fear and his chest heaving. He hated how Satisfied his father looked because of this.

Suddenly, his shirt  is pushed up to his chin. Scott quickly closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath and forcing his emotions down. He will not scream. He will not cry. He won't give his father that much. Fifteen years on the streets teaches you to cool it or you would explode. Fifteen years old and Scott shuts down. Even as the knife drags across his chest. Digging into his collar bone and even slicing across his right nipple. He grinds his teeth and clenches his jaw. He becomes light headed and he thinks it's from the blood loss.

He's not sure how much time has passed. Eventually his father gets up. Leaving Scott on the floor. More time passes before he finally rolls over and gets up. Swaying on his feet before shuffling to the bathroom. Closing the door quietly behind him. He takes a minute before slowly taking off his ruined shirt. For a moment he stares at it. Blood is soaked into it. Too much to be washed out. Then he looks at himself in the mirror. 

It's hard to tell where the cuts really were. His chest red and shining. Grabbing a washcloth, he wet it and began to clean himself up. The cloth nags at the cut skin and pulls. Resulting in more blood. He stops wiping and begins to dab at the cuts instead. The blood slows enough for him to grab the peroxide. Without a second though he begins to poor the peroxide on his chest. It seeps into the wounds and the excess liquid falls onto his shirt on the floor. 

The liquid sizzles and stings which causes him to suck in a quick breath. The bubbles turn red and he pours more on. He does this a few more times before he cleans off his chest with the wash cloth again.

At least it's finally stopped bleeding.

Stumbling to his room, he shuts and locks his door. Carefully laying on his mattress on the floor. He hoped that this would be the last time something like this happens. But a sick feeling in his stomach tells him otherwise.

As much as he needs it...he doesn't sleep that night.


End file.
